(Why thank ya! I appreciate that kinda stuff from people lol;' I dun hear it often :-P ) -- Death Valley

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Date Posted: 22:16:31 04/18/03 Fri
Author: Roxy
Subject: (Why thank ya! I appreciate that kinda stuff from people lol;' I dun hear it often :-P )
In reply to: Roxy 's message, "Ladies and Gentlemen, it is my pleasure to present......" on 01:06:36 04/17/03 Thu

Upon the wiry frame, a lanky shoulder pulsed to the internal beat, simper indisputably cast upon angled features. And in her own rendition, the filly began to execute her tango. Her nimble legs intertwined flawlessly underneath the eye of the other before her.

Spotlight�s on you, babe. Shine.

Ruby pelt danced beneath the celestial orb of light, flames rippling upon her silken attire. Her willowy appendages were not skittering beneath her in nervousness; just skittering. An unwound nature, she could face eyes to any, but not with any solemn demeanor.

Brilliantly glowing eyes raised with a gambling caution to the esteemed one before her. Her form tensed, a casual front splayed across her conduct. They performed a silent duet, upstaging any others that could surround them. Dainty hooves clopped eloquently upon the sturdy labyrinth beneath her, and she stood brazenly, a non-threatening emposure, but nevertheless unafraid.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Roxy and Zamnor performing the Showtime Rag.

A minion of questions spun throughout the eyes of the dubious youth. An unexpected and erratic toss of a tiny head, and there eyes were intertwined, scoping with a curious mischieve *I definitely made up that word*.

She watched the other, crazily influenced by an overactive imagination and an unrealistic determination. Beneath the glamour and the grace lay a feeble creature, lacking in anything wholesome. But lying, that was something she was good at. She mastered the skill with ease, just as one would a chast� or a poss�. And so, as she inwardly felt intimidated by the presence of the other, her outside whirled with eloquence.

Had she a long cigarette she'd be tipping it.

"Hey; Im Roxy. And what might I have the fine pleasure of calling you?"

Her eyes danced as the dice rolled, not without a slight submissiveness. She wasn�t imposing; wasn�t being rude. She was being Roxy; that hyperactive kid that never got enough of the show. Her ears flipped back in forth rythmetically, awaiting a response lazily.

No were to go, nothing to do.

I got no reason to hurry.

Spotlights on you, kid.

Spill it Zamnor.

((dont remind me that it sucks; but there's so many posts to do, so little time!))

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[> (Well...) -- Zamnor, 08:43:38 04/22/03 Tue [1]

(You're going to be hearing it from me pretty often if you continue the line of "dont remind me that it sucks..." Because, m'dear, it doesn't.

And now, on with the show.)

"You can call me Zamnor."

A grin accompanies his name, flashing in his dark eyes like a sign hanging over Broadway. He isn't the actor, so he'll get off the stage, but first... The colt makes no move to step closer to the young female, although his tail whips around his hocks with the authority of a horse who's been around.

"And this is Death Valley, the home of the king. Will you be staying, Roxy?"

With a simple question he turns the spotlight onto her, the white, hot light shinning down from the black heavens as he awaits patiently for her reply.

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